Turning Point
by Dusterelle
Summary: Tom x Ginny Reverse of the popular time-travel genre. Tom Riddle is transported into the future after experimenting with a magical artefact and encounters his future self. What caused the change in time? What effects will Tom's experience have on his plans? If you want, I'll keep writing and tell you. :D Reviews if you like it please.
1. The Dark Lord

**AU: Dumbledore didn't die from the horcrux (yet), the attack on Hogwarts didn't kill him but he is in hiding, as are the rest of the Order. Based a few days before Harry's birthday, Sirius is still alive. Enjoy. :D **

* * *

The first thing Tom noticed when he opened his eyes was blood.

Eyes heavy, he clambered to his knees and peered around. The floor was soaked in blood. His palms and clothes were dripping. Tentatively, he drew a finger to his face. His skin was soaked in it.

He looked up and recoiled. Facing him, on the opposite wall, was a body.

The face had been horribly mutilated, its eye sockets empty and jaw hanging loosely in its skin. Tom could feel his pulse quicken.

He had no memory of the large marble hall he was in, or how he could have come to be there. He last remembered sitting in his dormitory in Hogwarts.

The smells of blood and flesh were overwhelming. He gagged, scorning himself for his weakness and scrambling to his feet. He slid in the blood but retained his balance. There were bodies everywhere. Men, women…Tom felt his throat clench. Children, savagely torn.

The grand marble hall looked like hell. It was cold, dark. A fire hummed lowly in the enormous grate but did nothing to heat the room. The small light resembled a candle in the expanse of the walls.

Tom's hand clenched his wand in his pocket. He could feel magic hanging in the air. Spells had been cast in this room not long ago. The person who killed these people was a wizard. Grindelwald or his followers? Had the castle been attacked? But this wasn't Hogwarts...

Voices drifted down from the staircase.

Tom looked quickly around. There was nowhere to hide here.

He cast a disillusionment charm and drew quickly against a wall, eyes trained on the doorway. He would have to be quiet and fast. He could hold his charm long enough to find out who had taken him here, but not forever.

A figure appeared. A pitiful looking man, all rags and wildness, holding the door open for those who followed him.

A man floated through the door in an ethereal manner, cloaks billowing like smoke. Tom felt his body stiffen. Perhaps man wasn't the right word. The creature was pale, completely white. It had large slit eyes that shone red, even from so far away. Its nose was flat, no more than two slits. Snake like and inhuman, it seemed revolting and powerful.

Tom had never seen anything like it. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't Grindelwald.

Men and women followed it, all fearful but revering. When they noticed the condition of the hall, they grew nervous, some appearing sick. The creature ghosted through the carnage, walking through the blood in a state of calm.

Tom sank more closely into the wall. He needed to get out. That much was clear.

"My Lord," one man addressed the creature, "The prisoners-"

"Have them cleaned away." Its voice was raspy and strained. "They would not co-operate, I felt no need to keep them any longer. Wormtail."

The pitiful looking man replied: "Yes, my Lord?"

"Take some of the bodies to Nagini. She will need to be fed."

The others settled somewhat, but still watched the creature nervously, casting spells to vanish the blood and levitate the bodies away. After a time, they had gone, leaving the creature alone.

Its head raised as it smelt the air. Eyes circled the walls and Tom didn't dare to breathe. The creature turned to the fireplace, watching the flames crackle.

Tom, hesitantly, crept along the wall. His charm would fade soon.

"Stop."

The word alone was nothing to fear but Tom felt his heart skip. How could it have heard him? He didn't see its ears.

"Reveal yourself now, or die."

For a moment, Tom considered his chances of running.

"That would be unwise."

The charm faded. Tom would have to earn his escape. If the creature was trained in legilimens, he would not be able to escape it easily.

The creature turned to face him. As it did, his face lost its calm and flickered into anger.

"Who are you?" It hissed.

Tom cursed himself and swallowed the fear in his chest. Why was he so afraid of that thing? It was repulsive, yes, but Tom knew better than to show fear.

"My name is Tom Riddle." he said in his boldest voice at that time.

The creature regarded him for a moment. In a heartbeat, it stood before him, peering down at him.

Tom jumped. It had moved so quickly. The creature was even more revolting closer to him. It laughed at his fear.

"Are you really?" it trailed. Tom could feel it prying around his mind but didn't dare try to stop it. He knew he wouldn't be able to.

"So you are." it said, more to itself than to Tom. "I thought, perhaps, polyjuice potion. Maybe one of the boy's friends had decided to try to fool my servants. But you are Tom Riddle." Its eyes shone. "I'm honoured."

It laughed - a cold, humourless sound. It made Tom feel cold. It was a horrible feeling, to feel so belittled.

Tom felt rejected and hated, admired by others, but never fearful at someone greater than himself. And yet, he knew this creature was more powerful than he was; the creature knew it too.

"Who are you?" Tom asked lowly.

The creature glowered at him, mouth forming a twisted smile. "You do not know? And yet, you are grown. You must be in your seventh year at school, yes?"

Tom nodded hesitantly.

"Then you must already know the name Voldemort."

Tom stiffened. "How do you know that name?"

The creature laughed again. "I know it because it is my name. I am Lord Voldemort." He watched Tom's eyes widen before continuing. "This is not Hogwarts, child. The year is 1997. How you came to be here, I do not know. Know that I am your future. I am Lord Voldemort."

Tom reeled. "I won't believe it."

"But you should."

The creature held Tom by the scruff of his shirt. "You must be nearing your seventeenth birthday. I know what you've done, what you've dreamt."

"I never dreamt you." Tom hissed, eyes wincing at the sight of the creature's face.

"A shame." Voldemort chuckled, "That you could not yet dream so far. Perhaps in time, you grow to be more daring. You're just a child; pitiful, cursed by that filthy name. You imagine a greater world but do not yet dare to claim it."

"Nothing about you seems great." Tom gasped, pain radiating from his neck. "Only deranged. If I am you, will you harm me?"

"I don't see why not." Voldemort murmured. "You have spoken to me with disrespect and the sight of you displeases me."

"Then you are mad." Tom glared.

"You have potential, child." Voldemort hissed in return. "But for now, you are worthless. Just a reminder of a time when I was weak and unprepared."

Voices sounded from the doorway and a man entered, masked.

"My Lord, I-" He noticed Tom's presence and the anger that marked his master's face. "My Lord!"

Voldemort flicked his wand, throwing Tom carelessly into the floor. "Take him to the dungeons. I will see to him personally soon. For now, we have preparations to make."

"Certainly, master." The figure nodded.

Tom didn't have time to register what was happening before ropes snaked from his wand, binding him. As he struggled, Voldemort approached and took his wand from the ground, admiring it.

From his pocket, he produced him own. The identical wands lay side by side in his hand as he idly toyed with them.

The creatures eyes trained on him were the last things Tom saw before the masked man led him away, into the dungeons.


	2. Deliberations

Darkness. Tom sat against the wall, knees drawn into his chin, thinking.

It was true. The creature was his fate.

Tom scowled. He desired power, recognition. That thing was merely insane. Its actions were thoughtless. Tom detested foolishness and ill-planned ideas. He wouldn't accept it. Somewhere in the original passing of time, Tom had lost his way.

He resolved, there in his cell, to never allow that to happen now.

That brought him to his other concern. How had he arrived to this place, this time?

He considered the magical artefacts he had been toying with from the Room of Requirement before he woke up in the marble hall; he remembered he had been researching one item in particular, a strange locket. He had seen its description once in a book, but that had been a long time ago. He had needed more information to find whether it was beneficial to him or not.

Tom cursed that curiosity now. He had hoped for more power, not to be displaced in time. What was more, the locket was not on his person. If it was responsible for bring him here, he couldn't return by the same means.

How ridiculous. He had condemned himself, both in his time, and now in this one in the form of a hideous madman. What was more, without magic, how would he ever get out? The cell reminded him of Wool's, dank and hopeless. He felt no stronger than a child.

Footsteps. Tom felt his presence before he saw him. It was that creature.

"Ah, my most esteemed guest." The voice drifted from the shadows, before its eyes shone and Tom could make out its location.

Tom scowled again. He had resolved not to show fear, not now that he understood what it was. "Do you intend to leave me to rot?"

"Perhaps, in time. For now, I mean only to observe. You have not tried to escape, like all other prisoners before you."

"I know it wouldn't be worth the energy to struggle."

"You're not very spirited." Voldemort noted. "It won't be entertaining at all to crush you. No wonder you have yet to dream the limitless potential for power you have before you."

"Madness and power are different things." Tom hissed in reply.

"You will discover in time, boy, they are not so different at all."

With a slight movement of his wrist, Tom flew forward into the bars of the cell.

His head spun, eyes darkening, littered with lights as pain rippled through his body.

"Do not toy with me child." said Voldemort, one bony hand outstretched to flick hair from Tom's face. "I have long outgrown patience, and your weakness."

"Are you going to kill me then?" asked Tom, sullenly. A laugh broke through his clenched mouth, face against the cold bars. "Are you or not?"

"Soon." Voldemort replied with another humourless smile. The tip of his wand drew across Tom's cheek, leaving a deep cut in its wake. The blood rose to the surface slowly. "You are so defenceless. Pathetic."

Tom glared at him with deep loathing. "Don't belittle me. You disgust me."

Another flick of his wrist and Tom sailed into the stone wall on the other side of the cell.

A gasp of pain escaped his lips as a dull pain echoed through his bones.

Voldemort hissed curses lowly under his breath and gashes appeared along Tom's face and body, ripping through his uniform.

When he finished, Tom's hair was matted to his forehead with blood. His already stained skin was littered with wounds. His eyes were heavy but he did not cower in front of the sickly image of his future.

"You are not without potential." Voldemort nodded, "and yet the sight of you sickens me."

"Why not finish it then?" Tom hissed.

"You would willingly die, boy?"

"If you are all I have to look forward to, then I see no reason to fight." Tom replied, falling to the ground, settling against the wall to sit. He kept eye contact with his older self at all times.

Another flick of his wand and Tom's mouth erupted with blood. He gagged, spluttering it across the cell floor.

Voldemort laughed humourlessly again and swept away, back into the darkness. Tom waited, but he didn't reappear.

He tore the material of his already ragged robes, stripping some of his sleeve away. He wiped the blood out of his eyes and then used to clean his mouth.

He checked with his tongue. It seemed he vomited blood rather than bled from his gums or teeth. At least that meant he wouldn't keep bleeding now, though he kept it in the back of his mind to examine his stomach for damage when he escaped…if he escaped.

He settled against the wall again. The hall was silent. If there were prisoners in the other cells, they remained quiet and unmoving. Solitude.

He fell into an uneasy stupor, taking this opportunity to rest. He banished all thoughts of escape for now. He felt hopeful, but would not allow foolish mistakes to cost him any opportunities that would present themselves.

Time passed at an immensely slow pace. His eyes fixed ahead, seeing but unfocused on the darkness.

It felt like an age had passed, but at last he heard a noise that echoed in his eardrums, as if the walls had shaken from their places.

He rose to his feet and watched for movement.

Light burst into life. Faces he didn't recognise flew past. These people weren't the creature's followers.

Orders and frantic activity.

Cell doors flew open like bombs.

Ragged, dishevelled faces were taken and the crackling of apparition could be heard from beyond the limits of the dungeons.

A rescue mission.

Tom flew to the bars of his cell. "Wait!" he called to a passer-by, "Don't leave me here!"

Their eyes darted to his robes "The boys a Slytherin. Could be one of their kids for all we know." A gruff voice growled over the din.

"Don't be an idiot!" A female voice retorted. "Get back!" She pointed her wand at the cell bars.

Tom jumped backwards. The bars burst apart in a loud bang, lost in the chaos of the dungeon.

He ran forward, caught under the arm of the person who had argued against his release.

The figure stopped to catch one more prisoner under his other arm and ran.

Tom struggled to keep up, all but dragged by the man. He knew better than to complain though. A chance like this would not arrive again.

They burst through the dungeon barriers, appearing in the marble hall again. Tom caught a glance of Voldemort before the man holding him disapparated.

The force pounding in his ears, Tom felt a strange relief. He was out of the dungeon, away from that horrific creature, his future.

* * *

They stopped; Tom fell to the ground and wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

In a moment the man who escorted him there was gone with a sharp crack, back to the dungeons, Tom imagined.

Hands found Tom and hefted him to his feet.

The boy who did so peered at him in confusion from behind his glasses, dishevelled dark hair hanging wildly around his eyes.

Shock, realisation, a noise of alarm.

Other faces came into sight and Tom threw his hands up to show he was unarmed as every face drew a wand and pointed it squarely at him.

"Stop!" Tom roared, eyes wide, composure momentarily forgotten. "I'm unarmed, damn it!"

"Riddle." The dark hair boy spat. Tom frowned at him.

"Harry." A soft voice drifted from behind him. The boy, Harry, stepped aside, revealing a familiar figure.

"…Dumbledore?" Tom murmured.

The man was aged but instantly recognisable.

He peered sharply at Tom over his spectacles and raised a hand to the others in the room.

"Stop." he told them. No one argued, lowering but not putting away their wands.

Dumbledore approached him.

"May I?" Dumbledore tapped a finger against his own temple. Tom hesitated, but nodded.

He could feel the man pry into his memories, searching for the truth. Memories of his arrival and meeting his future self flowed through his mind.

Dumbledore took a step back.

"This boy is not a threat to us. This is the real Tom Riddle, taken from 1944."

Expressions fell in confusion and worry, the boy named Harry bristled and watched him closely, but most noticeably a girl of his own age gasped from the crowd.

He glanced in her direction, noting her resemblance to many others in the room and marking them as her family.

She froze under his watch, turned and stole from the room.

"Tom." Dumbledore said, drawing his attention back to him, "I need you to tell me everything."


	3. Arrival

Dumbledore handed him a cloth, pointed his wand at it and Tom felt it dampen.

He wiped the blood from his face in front of a mirror Dumbledore had produced, envying the man his wand, under the careful scrutiny of the others in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that the girl who had run away returned to the room.

"Are you injured?" Dumbledore asked. "I fear he showed no restraint, even towards you."

"He may have done internal damage." said Tom quietly. "I coughed blood."

Dumbledore's wand passed over his abdomen. "I am no healer, but you may need medical attention. I fear he has indeed harmed you."

Tom nodded in vague disinterest.

He glanced to the side, eyes catching another girl his age. She audibly whimpered. Ordinarily Tom would have laughed, but he felt beyond humour at that moment. This entire situation was too surreal for his liking and the fear he inflicted on these people was fear they felt at the memory of that snake-like maniac. He didn't feel proud of that.

"Who are these people?" He asked Dumbledore before he could catch himself.

"These people, Tom, are members of the Order of the Phoenix. They represent resistance against Lord Voldemort and his followers. I will introduce you later. For now, I need to discuss your circumstances with you. After taking a glance into your memories, I see you have no desire to return to Voldemort."

Tom glowered. "I won't go back."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I see. In this time Tom, you are either with Voldemort or against him. To release you back into the world alone would be both cruel, as you do not belong in our time and are unarmed, as well as foolish. If he were to find you, he would most assuredly kill you. That leaves you here. This is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. I would be obliged to ask you to remain here."

Tom stiffened. "Is that wise?"

"You face no other option at the moment. Perhaps I will be able to assist you in finding your way back to your appropriate time. If you leave, you are damning yourself."

"Then let him be damned." one of the others in the room snorted. The man had wild eyes, dark hair and a regal demeanour.

Tom regarded him curiously. He greatly resembled someone he knew from Hogwarts.

"Orion?" asked Tom curiously.

The man's face grew pale and he turned away, retreating into an armchair, looking anywhere but at Tom.

"That is Sirius Black." said Dumbledore, "Son of Orion Black, owner of this house."

Tom looked passed the others in the room and watched the man in the chair. "I really am in 1997."

"Yes. Will you stay? You will die if you leave. I do not know what effects that would have."

"Why not just kill him then?" The boy named Harry hissed. "If he dies at his age, he'd have never grown up to be a monster."

"Harry." Dumbledore said sharply. "Lower your wands, all of you. If Tom and Voldemort can both exist here now, then killing Tom will not change the present. Whatever brought Tom here, it existed separately to how he was originally meant to live."

"Why are you defending me?" Tom interjected. "You never liked me. What do you care if I die?"

"I may have had concerns over your interests Tom, but now that you see your future, were those concerns unfounded?" Dumbledore watched him with sad eyes. "You have not done anything to merit death Tom. You must stop thinking in such sharp contrasts of light and dark. You are not yet a man. I saw how you felt when you met Voldemort. As long as you can change, I will assist you. That is how it's always been, from the day I came to take you to Hogwarts."

Tom lowered his gaze, noting how intently all around were watching him. "Does that matter? They don't want me here."

"Damn right." Sirius muttered. "What are you thinking Albus?"

"I am thinking that this boy has not murdered anyone, Sirius. This boy is not a monster, just a young man. Young men often make mistakes." Dumbledore regarded him sharply. "Where would they all be if people cast them aside so recklessly?"

Sirius visibly bristled.

"I understand," he replied through clenched teeth, "But that doesn't mean I can just forget. What about James and Lily, Dumbledore? What about Marlene McKinnon and her family, or Edgar Bones and his entire family? Dorcas Meadowes? It's not that easy to just forget."

The others in the room visibly darkened, most of all the boy named Harry, who glared at Tom with deep loathing.

"As I have said." Dumbledore repeated calmly. "This boy has no connection to those deaths. Lord Voldemort murdered those people. Tom Riddle is only a boy, one who is innocent of the crimes you hold against him and unarmed. I trust the people in this room to be wise enough, if not kind enough, to understand that makes him no more dangerous than the chair on which he sits at the moment."

Tom darkened. He hated to feel so weak. He understood Dumbledore was defending him, possibly even saving his life by doing so and yet he couldn't help feel stung by that last comment.

"V…very well." A stout woman with red hair took a step forward.

"Molly!" The man next to her hissed, but she waved him off.

"He is just a boy." She said, forcing herself to look at Tom with pained eyes. "And I won't be part of throwing him to his death. It isn't easy Albus." She swallowed. "But if it's what you wish, I see no reason why he shouldn't remain here. Above all else, he doesn't even have a wand."

Albus nodded lightly. "Exactly, Molly."

The man next to her, also red headed, laid a hand on her arm. Her husband then, Tom noted. "I agree. If we leave him to fend for himself, we're as good as murderers ourselves."

"Sirius?" Dumbledore turned to the man in the armchair.

He frowned. "Fine. He stays then. But I've had enough of pureblood mania from my family in the house. I won't tolerate it from you." he said, glaring at Tom.

Dumbledore looked at Tom briefly. "Perhaps Tom, in light of what has occurred, you would not mind if I were to inform them?"

Feeling his blood curdle as he did so, Tom looked at Dumbledore. "If you must." he muttered.

"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "Tom is not a pureblood wizard, Sirius. His father was a muggle."

At this, the room became alive with whispers and Tom pulled into himself, eyes trained on the ground. He could feel their loathing, hear his name in their whispers. It was just like the orphanage. He jumped to his feet, effectively silencing them.

"Tom, you are injured. Don't be irrational." Dumbledore told him,

"I don't care." He hissed, hand pressed to his abdomen. "I'm not a freak; I will not be observed and spoken about like one. I want to be away."

Dumbledore nodded. "We will find a room for you."

Tom wouldn't look at them, only follow Dumbledore.

How he hated this. Even here, amongst muggleborns and outcasts, he was the freak. Hours ago he had been in Hogwarts, hailed as an exceptional student. Here, he was nothing again.

As he skirted Dumbledore's room out of the room, he felt every pair of eyes in the room on his back, clenched his fists and kept walking.


	4. Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Tom sat in the bed of his assigned room.

The house, he had learned, was named number 12 Grimmauld Place. There was something strange in knowing it was Orion's home, that he had lived here with his family, that he had already passed away as an older man.

Dumbledore instructed him to remain resting after he received treatment from a nervous looking healer.

Whether or not she had known who he was, her hands had trembled as she examined his stomach and chest.

After being given clean clothes, they left him alone.

He watched the wall across the room blankly. Did they expect him to just sit here? Or maybe to sleep?

As if he would, in a house full of people who hated him, defenceless.

He was pitiful now. The effects of the potion he was given began to arise and he felt his head grow heavy.

Cursing Dumbledore under his breath, he glared at the wall until he faded into sleep.

* * *

At some time the next day, as Tom lay idly in the bed, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter." he said in return.

The girl who had whimpered at the sight of him appeared in the doorway. She had brown hair and eyes, as well as a seemingly nervous disposition.

"I…I thought maybe you would want something to read, while you can't leave your room." She strode into the room slowly, leaving the small bundle of books in her hands on the ground. Tom noted he wouldn't be able to reach them as she hadn't dared to come very close, then looked back at her.

He saw her hand shake.

"Someone else put you up to this. You can't even look at me; I highly doubt you felt pity for me." Tom told her, eyes returning to the wall.

The girl breathed sharply inwards but didn't leave. "Molly. Molly Weasley asked me to bring them to you."

"I imagine there weren't many volunteers." Tom smirked. "What is your name?"

"...Hermione Granger." The girl replied cautiously.

"Granger. Weasley is a name I recognise as one of pureblood but Granger is not. A pleasure to know I am not the only resident in the house with tainted blood." said Tom.

"There is nothing wrong with having muggle blood." Hermione bristled, her fear quickly fading in place of anger.

"Perhaps not to you. Personally, I didn't care for my muggle relatives."

Hermione was lost for a reply. She watched Tom carefully. There was movement outside of the door.

"Couldn't bear to be alone with an unarmed and wounded person?" Tom asked.

Hermione didn't reply, only turned to see Harry lurking by the door.

"I don't bite." Tom smirked again.

"Shut up." Harry told him sharply.

Tom regarded him. "What, no pleasantries? Dumbledore would be so disappointed."

"He'll have to excuse me." Harry growled in reply.

"Who are you?" asked Tom.

"My name is Harry Potter."

"I recognise the name. Charlus Potter, I recall. Pureblood then?"

"Halfblood. My mother was a muggle."

"So many muggles in families now, it seems." Tom noted. "What about you, Potter? Do you believe muggle relatives are nothing to be ashamed of?"

"Yes." Harry gritted.

"Then be sure to compliment your mother for me." Tom replied.

Harry made to approach the bed but Hermione grabbed him. "Harry, you mustn't."

Tom watched the hatred in his eyes rage. "I imagine by your actions that your mother is dead. It is likely to be the work of Voldemort."

"My father too." Harry spat. "James and Lily Potter."

"My condolences." Tom shrugged, turning back to the wall.

"You don't care at all, do you?" said Harry.

"Not particularly." Tom replied. "I haven't grown to become Voldemort yet; I don't feel remorse or responsibility. Do you want me to tell you I sympathise that you have no parents? Neither do I Potter. Grow up."

A drawn silence fell over the room.

Tom didn't see them leave, but heard their footsteps and the door slamming.

He was alone again, unable to reach the books.

The next time he encountered a person was that evening, when the woman named Molly handed him his potion.

He was unconscious again soon after, unable to remember when she had left.


	5. The Nature of Things

Time continued to creep by at an irritatingly slow pace.

Tom lay in the bed, idly toying with a spoon. He concentrated on it, effectively bending it into and out of shape. He longed for his wand. Lying here, he felt all the power and grandeur of a wounded animal.

The spoon had come from a bowl of soup, which Tom found on the locker next to the bed when he woke up.

When he noticed it, it was hot. Whoever had left it there had done so not long before he had woken. It annoyed him to think they would freely into and out of his room while he slept. He hadn't touched the soup, now stone cold.

Tom hadn't eaten any of the food that had appeared in his room for the last three days. He doubted they would have added anything unpleasant to it, but food didn't interest him at that moment. He had other things on his mind.

Dumbledore would have to have been a fool to think he didn't notice the ring on his finger when Tom arrived to Grimmauld Place.

The Gaunt family ring, broken, on his twisted hand. So one of his horcruxes had been destroyed.

Tom assumed that Voldemort had gone on to make many more horcruxes, while Tom had only the ring and the diary.

So far, it seemed he and Voldemort were separate beings. That meant Tom had one horcrux left.

How annoying. Tom was particularly fond of the ring: it marked the day he had put an end to his horrific family, those foul, undeserving muggles.

* * *

"Can you believe him?" Harry growled, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"Tom is from an era when being orphaned was a common thing." Dumbledore replied. "He grew up in a muggle orphanage during a war-torn era. Wizard or muggle, having no family was nothing unusual. It is unsurprising he would not sympathise with another orphan. To him, to expect sympathy is to be weak."

He sat at the table with Lupin and Arthur, while Molly busied herself preparing food in the kitchen space. Sirius was settled in his usual armchair by the fireside.

"Not everyone was orphaned because of him." Harry retorted.

"Not because of Tom, Harry." said Dumbledore patiently. "Because of Voldemort."

"I have been meaning to ask, Albus." Lupin spoke up, effectively halting Harry's tirade, "Have you any idea what happened to bring the boy here?"

"As of yet, I am unsure." Dumbledore answered with a heavy sigh. "In his memories, Tom was experimenting with a magical locket of unknown origin. I feel this played a role in his displacement, but I cannot understand how he can be here at the same time as Voldemort." He span the damaged Gaunt ring on his finger. "I have theories, but no definite answers as of yet."

"Could you share some of your suspicions?" asked Lupin. "I don't mean to pry. I am determined not to be prejudiced upon hearing your explanation; I just want to know that the boy isn't tampering with some volatile dark magic."

"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "I feel this change may have some connection to the destruction of Tom's horcruxes."

"But Voldemort still has horcruxes left." Harry piped up.

"Voldemort has more, yes. But Tom, at the age of seventeen, had only two. The diary and the Gaunt ring." He raised his withered hand, drawing a number of pained hisses. "As you are aware Harry, these have both been destroyed. You being responsible for the destruction of the diary yourself."

At this, Arthur turned to Harry and smiled. Harry nodded in reply.

"It is unknown what happens to the fragments of the soul released from the horcrux as it is destroyed. To borrow some muggle knowledge, they believe energy cannot be destroyed. It can only change form. We know little of the nature of souls, but I suspect it acts in much the same way."

"What you're saying is the pieces of soul became something else?" asked Sirius.

"It is a distinct possibility." Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps they found Tom in his time period. It is unlikely they would return to Voldemort, who so seldom resembles a human now. The soul, to my knowledge, cannot be put back together. Perhaps they simply caused a sharp burst of emotion in Tom. Whatever the case, I believe something occurred at the moment that caused a change. In the original line of occurrences, Tom tampered with that locket and nothing happened. Yet, seemingly in another, he was able to access a latent power in it."

His words settled wearily on the room.

"Is it possible?" Lupin finally asked. "To have effected time so greatly, to have even created another line."

"I cannot claim to know all there is to know about magic." said Dumbledore. "Nor about the nature of souls or time. But given the circumstances, that is my current trail of thought."

"Madness." Arthur muttered.

Dumbledore nodded with twinkling eyes. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

"Speaking of…Tom, and madness-" Molly interjected, "Why is it none of you are willing to go into his room? He doesn't even have a wand."

Murmurs and scowls greeted her in reply.

"He can still talk." Harry muttered. "He can do enough damage with that."

"It is true that words can do more harm than wands, many times." Dumbledore nodded. "Who has been taking him food and medicine, Molly?"

"I visit him every night with his potion Albus." Molly replied, "But Ginny is the only one who will take him food."

Harry and Arthur visibly stiffened.

"I see." Dumbledore smiled. "Remarkable girl."

* * *

Another knock on the door.

"Enter." Tom said lazily.

When Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, he sat a little straighter.

Dumbledore was the only person here who had memory of him. Regardless of the fact that Dumbledore never fell for his charms and lies, Tom wasn't willing to sully that reputation as dignified and powerful. The image was ruined by his bed-bound state, but Tom held his head high.

"How do you do, Tom?" The man asked, conjuring a chair to sit on.

Tom opened his mouth to reply, staring hungrily at his wand.

"I believe Voldemort took your wand." said Dumbledore.

Tom nodded slowly.

"I fear little can be done to retrieve it then."

"But I need it." Tom frowned. "When I return to my time, I will need it for school and-"

"And whatever you intend to do after your graduation." Dumbledore finished. "Have you given any thought to the fact that your intended course of action may lead you to becoming the current Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes." Tom grit. "But I don't see why that matters before I even return. As it stands, I could go mad considering the possibilities alone. If I can return to my time, however I may return, how can I know that this wasn't meant to happen originally? Maybe I'll return to find your younger self ready to obliterate my memories of all this."

Dumbledore smiled. "At least you are as keen as I remember. If it gives you any comfort Tom, I cannot recall ever having to wipe your memories following an ill-fated mishap in the future."

"Ridiculous." Tom muttered, turning back to the wall. "What am I meant to do?"

"That is very much up to you, Tom. As it stands, I am attempting to find a way to return you to your time. For now, rest. It wouldn't harm you to speak to the others in the house." Dumbledore added.

"You mean the Potter boy and his friends?" Tom laughed hollowly. "I doubt they are any more eager to talk to me as I am to them."

"That may not be true." said Dumbledore. "Forgive Harry, Tom. Lord Voldemort condemned him to a life without family and friends for many years. He lives now as Voldemort's most hated enemy, even more so than myself. The better part of the country is hunting for him. Voldemort tried to kill him as a child and failed."

Tom seemed to gain interest upon hearing this. "He was defeated by a mere child?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I really did lose my way." Tom muttered. "To have fallen so low, become so weak."

Dumbledore audibly sighed, drawing his attention again. "It saddens me that you are more concerned for yourself than you are at the fact you attempted to murder a child."

"My mental state." Tom replied. "Voldemort was nothing more than a raving lunatic, so obsessed with image that he did nothing to seize power. I felt his power and all he did was kill weaklings and hide in the shadows. I want to know how I fell so far."

"All you ever did as a young adult was look for immortality." said Dumbledore. "You forgot to look beyond that. In the end, you continued to make horcruxes and commit terrible acts, but nothing of grave importance to the state and future of the wizarding world. You became a legend for being a monster, nothing more."

Tom nodded in consideration. "I desired power and recognition. It seems I became desperate for it by any means necessary."

"Yes." Dumbledore sighed. "You did. Now Tom, I must go. I have business to attend to elsewhere."

With a flick of his wand, he caused the soup in the bowl to vanish.

"It may interest you to know that both the ring and the diary have been destroyed."

Tom's eyes shot to Dumbledore's face, staring at him intently.

"Eat, Tom. You're only a young man now, your health matters. If nothing else, it will aid you in healing. If you wish to learn more about the diary, I especially recommend that you eat."

"Why?" Tom frowned.

"Because Ginny Weasley knows more about your diary than anyone." replied Dumbledore.

"Weasley…" Tom noted. "Which one is Ginny?"

"I imagine you will find out soon." Dumbledore smiled softly. "She is the one bringing your meals."

With that, he left Tom alone in the room.

He raised the spoon into the air without touching it, watching it spin.

Mortality…it tasted bitter.


	6. Never Again

The next morning, Tom discovered Ginny Weasley for himself.

The red haired girl who had fled at the sight of him. He knew it would have to have been a red headed child after seeing Molly Weasley but he hadn't expected her. She was the very same person who feared him more openly than anyone else when he arrived.

He had woken up before she entered with his breakfast, but kept his eyes shut. He waited until she had left the tray on the table before he opened his eyes. She saw Tom look at her and jumped.

"Good morning." said Tom pleasantly. Her face remained unchanged.

He pulled himself upright. "Thank you for bringing me breakfast. What's your name?"

"Ginevra." she replied.

"Well Ginevra, would you like to take a seat? I've been so bored here by myself. It would be nice to have someone to talk to."

"Stop."

He regarded her curiously. "Stop what?"

"Stop pretending to be innocent and sweet. It won't work. I know what you do to people."

Tom's face relaxed into his natural bored expression. "Have it your way. Either way, sit. I want to talk to you."

She hesitated, but complied. She went to the cupboard and retrieved a stool.

"You are not of age." Tom noted.

"No, I'm not." Ginny replied. "To protect the location of the house, underage residents aren't meant to cast magic."

Tom nodded. "Understandable. Now, to the point. Dumbledore informed me my diary was destroyed. Did you do it?"

"No." answered Ginny, her eyes trained on him. "Harry destroyed it. And killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets."

"Really?" Tom scowled. "Why did he bother?"

"Your diary possessed me and reopened the chamber in my first year at Hogwarts." said Ginny. "Harry saved my life and the school."

"You answer me directly." said Tom. "You're not afraid?"

"I am, a little." said Ginny. "I remember you as someone who was cruel to me as a child. You tricked me and changed my childhood forever. But there are more frightening things than you in the world Tom. I'm not a child anymore. You're not the only person who's hurt me, but I'll make sure you don't do it again."

This made Tom smirk. "You're a brave one, aren't you? Let me guess. A Gryffindor."

"That's right." Ginny nodded.

"Why do you bring me my meals if I irritate you?"

"Because I feel sorry for you." Ginny replied.

Tom scowled. "Don't. I don't need your pity."

"Tough." Ginny frowned. "You have it anyway."

"Why do you pity me?" Tom asked lowly.

"You're injured, wandless and alone." Ginny said with a shrug. "I would pity anyone in that position. Dumbledore was right. You're not Voldemort. You're just a student, the same age as me."

"I've done far more interesting things than your school friends already, Ginevra." Tom smirked.

"I know." Ginny nodded. "I've seen exactly what you're capable of. But because of you, we've all done things people our age shouldn't. You're a foul example, but nothing spectacular anymore."

Tom felt his hands clench. "I think I prefer you people when you cower."

"I'm sure you do." Ginny scoffed.

She stood and approached his bed, taking the stack of books and moving them close enough that he could reach out and take one. Tom noted that this meant he could reach out and touch her too. Unlike the Hermione girl, Ginny didn't seem too worried. Tom remembered she still had a wand.

'No wonder then', he thought dryly. He reached passed her leg, partially to test her resolve, but also to examine the first book in the pile.

"'Effective Applications of Common Country Plants in Potions'. You really did go out of your way to remove any trace of the Dark Arts from my surroundings." Tom sighed.

"Learn to like it." Ginny told him with her arms crossed. "We've already stripped the house of all its Dark Arts trinkets. I'll bring you more books when you've finished these if you like, there's plenty of them. Just don't expect anything darker than history books and potion recipes."

"Arrogant girl." he muttered.

"Yep." Ginny replied. "You get as good as you give. Be polite and grateful, you'll get something nicer."

"Thank you, dear Ginevra." Tom smiled brightly.

"I said nicer, not sickeningly fake." Ginny shook her head. "It wouldn't kill you to be pleasant."

"It wouldn't benefit me either." Tom retorted.

"I don't have to keep bringing you meals." added Ginny, ignoring the fact that her mother would do it in her absence. "Merlin knows Hermione isn't coming back. Not that you're eating them anyway. Doesn't the food please you, your lordship?"

Tom glowered at her. "I don't feel much like eating. Is that allowed?"

"Why not?" asked Ginny.

"Because I can't get the image of his…my…face out of my mind. And suddenly I lose my appetite." said Tom.

Ginny watched him for a minute, then sat back on the stool.

"A lot of us have that problem." she said lowly. "I could bring you a potion to settle your stomach; otherwise I recommend you force yourself to focus on better memories."

"Why do you care if I don't eat?" Tom frowned.

"Do you want me to bring you food or not?" Ginny replied. "I can't imagine you're having an easy time. I was trying to help."

"Why? What do you want?" asked Tom.

Ginny sighed. "Typical Slytherin. I don't want anything."

"Then why do you care?"

"We all have trouble getting by because of him. This whole thing must be confusing for you. I don't mind if I'm the only one who'll talk to you." Ginny replied. "As long as you're pleasant, you're just like any other person."

"I'm not ordinary." Tom insisted.

"Is ordinary so terrible?" answered Ginny.

A lull fell over the room.

"It's been a long time since anyone other than Dumbledore has argued with me, even in my own time." said Tom.

"I'm not going to cower before you Tom." said Ginny. "I've spent my time being fooled by you. Never again."

She left the stool aside and left the room. Tom watched the door before turning to the tray. He brought the food over and idly began eating.

* * *

When Molly arrived that night to present him with his potion, she noticed the stool in the corner.

Tom saw her pause to open her mouth but stop before saying anything. He was unconscious again in minutes.


	7. Routine

Tom didn't pretend to be sleeping the next morning. When Ginny walked into the room, he had his face buried in a heavy history tome.

She left the tray on the table and made to leave when she heard him say: "Stop. Sit."

"Why?" asked Ginny.

"Because I haven't heard two words from anyone else in this house in days and I wanted to clarify something."

Ginny considering telling him to say please, but decided not to push her luck. She was exhausted.

Tom only looked at her when she sat down. He smiled coldly. "Good."

Ginny frowned.

"Yesterday, I fear you may have misunderstood me. I find the creature's face to be revolting, but I do not fear it. I lose my appetite due to the fact that I feel I never accomplished what I set out to. It sickens me."

"I figured it was something like that." said Ginny. "I didn't misunderstand. I know how you think."

"No, you don't." Tom murmured angrily.

"I spent a long time talking to your diary. You weren't always so sweet either. I don't claim to be in your head, Riddle, but I've seen all the charming things that have come out of it." Ginny said with an unwavering face.

Ginny saw his face jerk. She noticed how often that had happened since he had arrived and it dawned on her: "The name still bothers you, doesn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." said Tom, turning back to his book.

"Yes, you do. The name Tom Riddle still irritates you. It's because its ordinary, isn't it?"

"You're beginning to test my patience, Ginevra." Tom growled.

"I don't care." Ginny snapped. "Everyone else in this house has been hurt by you-know-who. I'm the only one who was hurt by Tom Riddle. You owe me more than a few insults now and then."

"I don't owe you anything." Tom replied, "You were the fool who wrote in my diary."

"You were the fool who made it a horcrux." answered Ginny.

There was a pause. "Why don't you say the name?"

"What name?" asked Ginny, her anger derailed.

"His name." replied Tom.

"For years, it was considered taboo. People fear it." said Ginny.

"They fear the name alone?" Tom smirked. "Maybe I did achieve something."

"You're no better so don't feel so pleased with yourself." Ginny said with a hard look.

"Elaborate?" said Tom.

"You hate your name. All you did in the end was make everyone else fear your new name. Personally, I think you were just trying to make things fair, by your standards."

"Fair?" Tom glared at her. "There's no such thing as fair."

Ginny smiled. "I know. If there was, you wouldn't have turned out like this. If there was, I never would have felt so scared because of you."

Tom watched her closely. "You're a strange person."

"I don't want to hear that from you." Ginny replied with a frown.

Tom smirked. He couldn't help it. He couldn't remember ever having such a profound conversation.

This time period was strange. Girls wouldn't have spoken to him like this in his time, even if he had harmed them. Girls wouldn't have had the nerve, but neither would many men. It seemed time had changed a lot.

"This has been enjoyable." Tom nodded. "I may detest the fact that you believe you understand me, but you at least dare to challenge me."

"I'll always challenge you." Ginny nodded. "I knew you once. Not everything you say is evil and twisted. I've heard you make a lot of sense. But I'll never nod along like your friends…or followers, if that's what they really are. If you say something I think is wrong or unfounded, I'll argue it."

"Intriguing." Tom nodded. "I enjoy debating."

"I'm sure you do." Ginny grimaced. "I have to get going."

"Why?" Tom asked sharply.

He cursed internally. Was he this desperately bored? 'Yes', he answered himself.

"I have to help take care of the house." Ginny replied as she stored the stool away. "Most of the Order is away, settling the other escaped prisoners into new safe houses. Not many of them stay, barely any of them help with the house work." She sighed.

"Don't you have an elf?" asked Tom.

"There was one, but Sirius hates him. Obsessed with purebloods." said Ginny, wiping a finger idly across the frame of the mirror on the wall. It came away covered in dust and she frowned, waving it away.

Tom nodded, unsure of what to say in reply.

"Anyway." said Ginny. "I'll leave you to your book."

She left.

Tom settling back against the bed. The silence of the room was startling.

He waited a while, then set the book aside and began to eat.

* * *

"I don't like the idea of you talking to him."

"Harry…" Ginny sighed. "I can take care of myself."

He opened his mouth to reply and Ginny shot him a look as if to say: 'Mention the diary. I dare you.'

He quickly shut it again.

"I'm not a child Harry."

"I know you're not." Harry muttered, turning away.

Ginny considered reaching out to touch his cheek but thought better of it. Harry was right when he said they shouldn't be together, not now. She didn't want to make it harder.

"He's no worse than Malfoy." Ginny urged with a small smile. "I can handle him."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt." Harry sighed.

"I know." Ginny nodded. This should have been the moment when Harry wrapped his arms around her and made her feel better. But he didn't. And he wouldn't.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Harry added.

"Not really." Ginny replied honestly. "At first, I felt nervous. It was frightening to see him there, looking like that. But now, I feel ok. I've spent years coming to terms with what happened. I'm not that little kid anymore. I can manage."

She saw Harry smile sadly and wondered what he was thinking, if it was the same thing she was thinking of. Imagining a time when things could be different…

A short knock, followed by Ron walking into the room; Hermione walked in after him. Ron sank heavily into a chair beside Harry, while Hermione curled up on the carpet beside Ginny. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine." smiled Ginny. "Really."

"'S bloody ridiculous." Ron muttered.

"What was that Ronald?" Ginny frowned.

"I said its blood ridiculous. What are you thinking, hanging around him? Talking to him?"

"I'm thinking he's no more harmful than you are at the moment Ron." Ginny snapped. "He's all talk right now."

"And when he has a wand?" said Ron. "Dumbledore told us he'll be of age soon. What if he decides to take yours and kill you for good measure?"

"Don't be an idiot Ron." said Ginny. "If you think I'd just roll over and hand him my wand, you really must be living in a bubble."

Hermione coughing into her hand, which may have been laugh.

"Stop, stop." Harry waved his hands to them. "Fighting isn't going to help. I think we should trust just Ginny, Ron."

"You're ok with it?" asked Ron with a look of disbelief. "He's bloody you-know-who!"

"No, he isn't Ron." Hermione replied. "Not really. He doesn't even have any horcruxes left. Dumbledore seems to think he and you-know-who are separated now. Who knows what kind of dark magic he's used on himself." Hermione shivered. "Whatever the case, if Dumbledore isn't worried, I don't think you should worry either."

Ron grumbled under his breath but didn't reply. Ginny smiled.

Dumbledore wasn't always right, but she trusted the man. They all did.

She would bear that in mind.


	8. Adjustments

Tom sighed. Today was the last day he was expected to take the medicinal potion.

He could feel himself growing steadily stronger, that dull ache in his abdomen fading. He hadn't asked what had happened to him. He didn't care, as long as it was curable. This also presented an issue. He would be able to leave the room, but not the house. He would be forced to interact with the residents, whether he wanted to or not.

Tom recalled days when he would cast a disillusionment charm over himself to evade irritating people, skirting the halls of Hogwarts like a ghost. He was particularly good at them. Being quick on his feet, he could go unseen if he chose to, even as a child.

In a house full of spider web corridors and sharp corners, he doubted he would be able to keep it up for long.

Exploring the house would make him feel less sluggish, but he knew they would want to keep an eye on him. He may not be left alone as often as he would prefer. This made him feel angry. Like he was some child that couldn't be trusted.

A knock on the door. "Enter." Tom called.

Ginny appeared, laden down with a cloth and a bottle of cleaning solution. "Morning."

"Is it?" said Tom in a bored tone.

"Sorry." Ginny told him as she drew the curtains open. She turned back to him as she did so. He was startlingly pale. Then again, they all were now.

"You should be." Tom muttered, pulling himself upright.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Always a pleasure."

She set to work cleaning the surfaces on the room, dusting the mirror and table.

They had thoroughly scrubbed every room when they first arrived but leaving the rooms idle resulted in more dust. The house attracted ghouls and boggarts like a magnet. Idle memories returned to her of her father at the burrow, loudly explaining the nature of magnets while Hermione helped him understand what they actually were. She missed home. The sunlight, the roaming fields.

"What has you so preoccupied?"

She turned back to Tom. "I was remembering my home."

A pause. "You can't go back?"

"No. It isn't safe at the moment."

Tom nodded. Ginny waited to hear if he would say anything else, but he didn't. 'He's never really had a home.' Ginny noted. 'He probably doesn't understand.'

As if he heard her, Tom said: "I've only ever belonged at Hogwarts."

Ginny smiled sadly. "We can't go back now. Dumbledore was the headmaster, but he's been chased into hiding like the rest of us. It isn't safe."

"Him again?" asked Tom.

"Yes." Ginny replied. She finished dusting and turned to him. "You don't want to be connected to him, do you?"

"No." Tom replied sharply. "He is a fool. He disappoints the name I created."

Ginny smiled sadly. "You just want to do it better, not differently."

"Differently would be better." Tom answered cautiously.

"What I mean is, you'd still try to purge the world of muggleborns." said Ginny.

"Purge?" Tom asked. "Not necessarily. I distrust muggles. As long as they do not involve themselves in magic, I don't care where there are, or what they do. Muggles are loathsome. There isn't any reason to dedicate much thought to them beyond that. What good are they?" Tom scoffed and folded his arms. "I imagine he has lost sight of that."

"Yes." Ginny nodded. "He's trying to exterminate them all. Complete unchallenged supremacy."

"Really?" Tom quirked a face. "How dull."

"Dull?"

"Yes." Tom smirked. "What good is a world where I can't prove my talent against weaker beings?"

"You're twisted, but at least your mentality isn't so violent." Ginny commented, approaching to dust the table next to him.

"Careful Ginevra. That could have been a compliment." Tom smirked.

"You wish." Ginny scoffed.

He watched her wipe the table down. "I doubt Potter would be pleased to hear you so at ease with me."

Ginny stiffened. Tom noted this but didn't change his expression.

"Harry. His name is Harry." said Ginny. "And its none of his business who I talk to."

"Really? He doesn't mind you sitting up here with me?"

"Why would he?" Ginny replied, urging herself not to react.

"I was thinking about what you said, about the Chamber of Secrets. You could only have been eleven in your first year, which made him no more than a year older, correct?"

She nodded dumbly.

"For someone of his age to go through so much trouble for you…" Tom trailed. "I imagine there is an attachment between you two."

'No.' Ginny told herself. 'Not again.'

She faced him, not angrily, but honestly. "There was. Not anymore. He's a friend."

Tom nodded. "He will not try to attack me again then?"

"As long as you're civilized and you don't make any nasty comments, he has no reason to." Ginny conceded.

Tom frowned. "So long as he bears in mind that I don't know all he expects me to."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny, settling in the stool again.

"He knows more about my other form's actions than I do." Tom answered. "So if he expects to be able to discuss these things or best me, he's a fool. I know nothing about it."

"I think they all need to remember that." Ginny murmured. "They seemed to have gotten carried away."

Tom shot her a look of derision but said nothing.

"I'll admit I need to remember that too." Ginny nodded. "Happy?"

Tom huffed but didn't argue.

"I'll be back soon with breakfast." Ginny said, storing the stool. "From tomorrow on, you can take your meals downstairs if you like."

Noting his expression, she added: "Or at least collect them yourself. You've only been having a meal a day on that potion dosage; you'll need more than that for now on."

"I don't eat much." Tom muttered.

"I can see that." said Ginny.

Injured or not, his face had a sharp look to it, as if he rarely indulged in anything. His dark eyes seemed less sickly now, but shadows still hung over them, deeply lined and bruised. His hair was rather ragged now, swept back wildly from running his hands through it rather than the neatness she had once seen him revel in. He scowled.

"What are you looking at?" he drawled.

"Just looking to see if you're looking any better." Ginny replied. "I'll be back soon."

With that, she left the room.

Tom waited in silence and took the time to scrutinise his appearance himself.

The clothing he was given was not ordinary wizarding clothing as he knew it. A thin black t-shirt and denim pants. He recognised clothes like this from his childhood in the orphanage. He supposed it didn't matter what he looked like at the moment, he had no need to impress these people and Dumbledore couldn't be swayed by appearance alone.

Still, it irritated him to know that he was uninformed: he didn't recognise their habits, or dress. Fifty years had passed without him and he didn't know what he missed yet. Did they dress like this all the time? Or were they just mocking him?

His thoughts were interrupted by Ginny returning, laden with the tray. She left it on the table.

"Would you like anything else?" She asked, still urging herself against demanding that he say please. There would be time for that later.

"No." Tom muttered without turning to her. He had a distant look on his face.

Ginny nodded wordlessly and left, watching him as she shut the door. He didn't seem weak; Tom never seemed weak. But he seemed confused.

With that in mind, she went downstairs to rejoin the others.

* * *

"Are you sure, Harry?" asked Lupin with a tone of concern. They were in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Sirius lurked in his usual chair while Molly prepared dinner.

"Dumbledore told me this is what I should do." Harry nodded. "And I will. I have to."

"Well, it is your birthday in a day or two." Molly noted. "But I do wish you'd allow the Order to help."

"You are helping. You have helped, all this time." said Harry. "But this was my responsibility. And I won't be going alone."

"We had assumed that Hermione and Ron would not allow you to go alone." Lupin nodded.

Molly visibly stiffened. "It doesn't seem right. You're so young."

"I'm not a child." Harry told her in exasperation. "We have to do this now. We don't have time for me to grow up, if that would make any difference anyway."

"Then why not have someone else go?" Molly replied.

"It should be Harry." Sirius piped up. "We all know of the connection between them."

"Yes…" said Molly unhappily. "But…"

"I agree with Sirius." Lupin nodded. "If this is what Dumbledore recommended, then I say we should trust his judgement."

"Oh, Dumbledore." Molly huffed. "That man and his ideas. He could be wrong you know."

"So you admit he could be wrong about the young demon upstairs?" Sirius noted.

Molly waved her wand at him warningly. "Don't try to drag him into this, that's not what we're talking about. This is about Harry, Ron and Hermione."

"You called?" said Ron as he walked into the room, Hermione following suit.

"Oh, there you are." Molly clucked. "Here, make yourself useful." She dropped a bundle of laundry on the table in front of him. Face growing red, he muttered under his breath but began to fold them.

"We've been discussing your intentions to continue the hunt for the horcruxes." Lupin said, smiling at Hermione.

"We've taken plenty of precautions." She said in reply. "Harry, Ron and I have been planning this since the attack at the end of last term."

"I thought you might have." Sirius smirked, squeezing Harry's arm. "Not like you all to sit around and mope."

Harry grinned. "We understand how serious all of this is. We're not just going to walk about and hope for the best. Things will be alright, really."

Molly looked as though she wanted very much to tell him otherwise, but just sighed. Harry took that as a victory and pushed the topic no further.

Ginny walked into the room and deposited the cleaning supplies back under the sink.

"Did his lordship appreciate your help?" Sirius snorted in laughter.

"No need to behave like a child." Molly shot at him. "Ginny dear, that was very kind of you."

Ron huffed. "He doesn't need kindness, he needs a decent kick in the-"

"Ronald Weasley, you fold those clothes properly!" Molly interjected.

"It's no trouble mum." Ginny smiled.

"I find how well you're handling this admirable Ginny." Lupin smiled.

"Thank you." Ginny looked around. "You're getting ready to leave soon, aren't you?"

"Yes." Harry nodded. The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Ginny just nodded. There wasn't much she could say.

Molly sensed her daughter's discomfort. She whisked the now folded laundry from Ron and handed to her daughter. "Take this upstairs, will you dear?"

She left the room wordlessly, grateful to be away.


	9. Adaption

When he woke the next morning, he sat upright and dropped his feet to the floor. Dim light fell through the crack in the curtains. His hands wiped his face and he clenched his abdomen. No pain.

Tom stood, wavered, but held steady. He swiftly removed the t-shirt to examine himself. He couldn't see any scarring or marks. He walked to the mirror. As far as he was concerned, he looked fine. Tired, maybe.

He ruffled his hair and frowned as stands fell limply onto his forehead. He needed to bathe.

Retrieving the shirt, he pulled it over his head and made for the door. Upon opening it, he found Ginny with her hand raised to knock. She fell short and her eyes widened. Had he always been so tall? Not as tall as Ron, but taller than Harry, definitely taller than her.

"Oh. Good morning." She murmured.

"Where is the bathroom?" asked Tom.

"There's one right at the end of the hall." Ginny pointed to the door.

He nodded and swept passed her. She watched him walk inside and shut the door loudly, pausing only to lock it. The clink of the lock echoed in the otherwise empty hall.

Ginny stood for a moment and went downstairs.

* * *

"He's out of his room." Ginny said to her mother in the kitchen.

"Good, then the potion set him right." Molly nodded. Ginny didn't miss the slight look of discomfort on her face.

"I preferred him when he was in the one place." Sirius muttered from the corner. "At least we could keep an eye on him there."

"Because he'll do terrible things without a wand, in a house under constant supervision." Molly replied, handing Ginny a bundle. "Take these up to his room, would you Ginny? Dumbledore took the liberty of preparing some clothes for him. Poor boy doesn't have anything but the clothes on his back now."

Ginny nodded and made her way back upstairs. Her mother and Sirius tended to bicker a lot. Everyone knew Sirius was going mad with boredom, locked in the house all the time. She hoped he wouldn't be too volatile. It seemed that Tom wouldn't even bother to look at them, so long as he wasn't provoked.

She left the bundle on his bed, opened the curtains and turned to leave. She could hear movement in the room down the hall and knew he would be back soon. Not wanting to be caught in that situation, she hurried away.

* * *

Tom re-entered his room to find clothes on the bed. 'Always walking in and out as they please', he thought with a frown.

He looked through the clothes. At least they had considered what they had chosen. Everything in the pile was either green or black. He smirked in approval and began to change.

* * *

He had considered staying in his room for the remainder of the day, but he saw no reason to hide.

Tom pushed open the door to the kitchen and an immediate silence fell on the room. There were only Orion's son, the Weasley's, their daughter Ginny and Potter in the room, but the air of distrust was palpable.

Tom stood for a moment, unsure of where he could go that wouldn't result in a hex from Potter, who was clearly keeping a tight hold of his wand.

"Tom." Molly said with a strained smile. "Would you like something to eat?"

"Yes, thank you." He nodded. He took the seat nearest to him and the door and didn't say another word.

For a few minutes, the room remained silent. Tom peered around at the hangings on the wall, the furniture and windows. They were all of the familiar grand style he had come to relate to Slytherin students and their families. Here, they had been altered and disguised to be less…intimidating, Tom thought, was the right word.

When his eyes passed over one of the people in the kitchen, they would stiffen or look away. Only Ginny showed no fear towards him.

Ginny looked about at the others in the room. Her father, who was sitting at the table, kept his eyes trained on the surface and not on Tom. Her mother's back was to them, but noticeably tense. Harry was leaning on Sirius's armchair, glaring opening at the boy. It dawned on her that if she didn't make an effort, no one else was going to.

"Can I help?" she asked her mother, her words waving away the silence. Molly handed her two glasses, one for Tom and one for herself.

Ginny considered it for a moment and decided to take the risk.

She sat one on the table before Tom, the other in the space next to him. She saw his eyes quirk but he said nothing. Harry darkened.

She laid out their cutlery and meals, then slipped into her chair. Tom didn't say a word, but nodded as she laid his food before him. Amidst the silence, he began to eat, completely ignoring the others in the room who made it a point to stare at him.

Ginny resisted the urge to sigh. There was nothing remotely interesting in watching Riddle cut his bacon, nor was he about to throw it at them.

She took a drink of water. "Harry. Everything going well with your preparations?"

Harry hesitated, eyes boring into Tom. Tom, meanwhile, showed no signs of having heard her speak. "Yeah." said Harry. "Great. Really great."

"Do you have an idea where you're going first?" Ginny asked idly.

"I don't think we should be talking about this right now Ginny." Harry muttered.

For the first time since he started eating, Tom looked at him. He paused and smirked. "Please. Don't mind me."

For a moment it looked as though either Harry or Sirius would jump across the room at him, until Molly added with a stutter: "Really Harry, you heard what Dumbledore said. Besides, T-Tom is staying here with the Order."

With this, Tom continued his breakfast, the twist of the corner of his lips never fading. Ginny gave in on conversation and followed suit.

By the time Tom had finished, Harry and Sirius were having a whispered discussion in the corner and Arthur was reading the paper. He ignored Ginny's questioning glance and brought his plate to the sink where Molly stood.

It took her a moment to notice him and she jumped. "Oh! Tom." She gave a shaking laugh. "I'm sorry." She took the plate with wavering hands.

Ginny left her plate to the side and turned to Tom. "Will I show you around the house?" The offer wasn't necessarily a kindness towards him. She didn't dare to think what would happen if he were to accidentally walk in on Ron or Harry in future. Somehow, she couldn't see Dumbledore feeling too pleased.

"That would be acceptable." Tom nodded. Taking this as the best she would get, Ginny led him from the room.

Tom noted as they left that if Potter gripped his wand any tighter, he'd break it.

* * *

There was a lull while Ginny led him through the hall. "That could have been worse." she offered. She turned to see him pull a face as if to say: 'Really?' She waved her hands in exasperation.

She showed him where the bathrooms were, stopped at the library on the first floor and instructed him about when the laundry was done and when the Order held meetings, meaning he couldn't be present. He nodded absently, staring around at the books. "Are you part of it?"

Ginny was shocked to hear him asking her anything. She stumbled. "Part of what?"

"The 'Order'." Tom repeated, peering at the shelves.

"Under-age witches and wizards can't join." she replied. "I have to stay here because mum and dad are members."

Tom nodded again, picking a book from the shelf and examining its pages. Ginny noted that she would probably be able to find him in here for now on.

The next sentence caught her off guard.

"What happened to Grindelwald?" Tom asked.

Ginny watched him curiously. "He was defeated, by Dumbledore."

Tom seemed to note this carefully. "Have you any books on modern history? There was nothing in the last century in the book I read upstairs."

"It's bothering you that you don't know what's going on." Ginny stated.

He nodded.

"I can try to find something, or I can ask Lupin to bring you something." said Ginny.

"Which one is Lupin?" asked Tom.

"Scruffy hair, brown robes. He's the were-"

Ginny caught herself. She began to feel extremely foolish.

"Werewolf." Tom finished. "Why don't you wish me to know this?"

"He and his followers hunt what he calls 'half-breeds'." Ginny muttered.

Tom scowled. "The more you inform me of him, the more I feel like a fool. At some point my desire to have the pureblood wizards follow me seems to have turned into an obsession."

"So you don't care he's a werewolf?" asked Ginny.

Tom shrugged with a bored expression. "Provided he does not attack me, I see no reason to care."

Ginny smiled a little. "I'll mention it to him when he comes by later."

Tom nodded his gratitude.

Ginny didn't expect him to actually thank her, but found the effort he made by nodding to be a starting point.

"I'll leave you alone then." Ginny added.

Tom shrugged again.

Oddly, in the chaos of their world at the moment, Ginny had to appreciate the fact that he really didn't care what she did, or where.

She shut the door behind her so he wouldn't be disturbed.


	10. In Time

**Hello. :D A quick thanks to everyone who's been reading. I hope it's been enjoyable so far.**

**I just wanted to say that chapters will be longer than before for now on. Maybe not always as big as this one, but the story will start moving faster as more point develop. **

**Thanks again. :D Feel free to drop a review to tell me what you think or if I've done anything stupid. :I **

**Happy reading. :D**

* * *

The next few days passed in much the same way. Tom rose early every morning, bathed and dressed, and reported downstairs for breakfast. When he finished eating, he went to the library. He would remain there for the rest of the day.

It was July 31st. Ginny woke and spent a while just lying in bed. Today was Harry's birthday. Tomorrow, rather than return to Hogwarts, she would wave goodbye to Harry, Ron and Hermione. She would be left alone after all.

She dressed and paused by the mirror to try to make herself presentable. She prodded here and there, trying to look neat and fresh. She pulled a smile. It didn't seem right. Her face fell back into the straight look of resignation she had been wearing since she arrived at the start of the summer. Much better.

Feeling a bit ridiculous for going to the extra trouble in the end, she left and made her way to the kitchen.

She met Tom on his way out the door.

"Good morning." she said as he passed.

"Is it?" he replied, making his way upstairs without looking back at her.

For once, she couldn't help but agree.

The room was buzzing with life.

'No wonder Tom was eager to leave' Ginny thought.

All eyes were on Harry, all figures gravitating towards him. The end of the table nearest to the door, where Tom sat, was completely isolated from the celebrations. She forced a smile again.

"Morning," she called.

"Morning Ginny." her father replied, pulling her in to peck her cheek.

"Morning dear," her mother echoed happily. "Well, dig in, there's plenty of food." She took a seat and smiled across at Harry.

"Happy birthday," she chimed. He laughed and smiled in reply.

Ginny understood it was still his birthday, but she didn't feel like celebrating. The days of cleaning and helping her mother had caught up to her. She felt sluggish, drawn; she couldn't shake the fact that they were leaving, and the level of danger they faced meant no-one could say for sure if they would come back. Her eyes found Harry's smiling face and she began to feel ill.

When she finished her meal, she took care of her dishes and slipped from the room.

Ginny never thought she would seek the company of Tom Riddle, but he was the only person in the house who would sit in complete silence with her if she wished, with no concern for her feelings or thoughts. Not to mention Harry had been avoiding the library as though it reeked of bubotuber pus.

She walked inside the library, drawing only a glance from Tom, who was busy with a pile of books he had lain out on the low table in front of the couch. She took a seat in the armchair across from him, slipped out of her shoes and curled up in the seat.

The silence was oddly comfortable, considering Tom was completely at ease with ignoring her. It was a while before she spoke, after looking at the books on the table.

"Did you find what you were looking for in the books Lupin brought you?"

He peered over at her. "They have been…informative."

"If you want to find out current news, the members of the Order can fill in any questions you have." Ginny added. "I can ask for the newspaper to be left for you."

Tom nodded in approval. "That would be acceptable."

His focus returned to his book.

For a while, Ginny grew drowsy. It had been a long time since she had been left alone during the day, what with everyone being busy with Harry and the others.

Harry. She shook her head and tried not to think of him. Emerald green eyes, like the colour of Tom's shirt. She found herself watching the colour absently. Eventually she thought better than to leave herself defenceless while she was alone with Tom, despite how passive he had been until that point. She began to focus on the room again and found his dark eyes watching her.

She gave a small, startled jump.

"What are you staring at?" he asked with a slight edge to his tone.

"Sorry." Ginny replied, turning away from him. "I was just thinking."

Tom nodded again. It was beginning to bother Ginny that he had given up speaking entirely in place of nodding.

"It wouldn't hurt to speak, you know."

Ginny knew she shouldn't have said it, but it slipped out.

Tom's face fell into a frown. "It wouldn't benefit me either"

"It's more…polite." Ginny replied. She knew she was really going too far but she felt so stirred by her thoughts, she didn't care.

Tom, somewhat alarmingly, smirked. "Have I any need to watch my manners around you, Ginevra?"

"Maybe." Ginny said as she turned back to him. "I've told you already. You'll get as good as you give."

"Considering you have nothing I want, I have nothing to fear." Tom replied. He turned back to his book; the corners of his mouth threatening to turn as he did so, not that Ginny noticed.

Ginny returned to her daze, taking care not to look at Tom, as so not to push him too far in one afternoon. It was a while before she heard anything except for the occasional turning page and her own soft breathing. Voices came from behind the door.

"I've looked everywhere else." It was Harry.

"Well I'm not going in there." Ron.

"Fine. See you later." Footsteps and the door creaked open.

Harry stood in the door frame, glaring at Tom.

"Ginny, can I speak to you?"

Ginny slipped her feet back into her shoes and followed him into the hall. She shut the door softly.

"Why are you sitting in there with him?" Harry's face was livid.

"Why not?" Ginny retorted. "He's just reading."

"So?" Harry exclaimed, "You haven't forgotten who he is, have you?"

"No, I haven't. But for the record, he doesn't know about what happened with the diary. He doesn't remember it."

"How convenient." Harry scoffed.

Ginny frowned. She understood his concern but she still couldn't stand how blatantly pig-headed he was being. If she and everyone else could adjust to what happened, even Dumbledore, she didn't understand why Harry had to go out of his way to be childish.

"Don't be an idiot." said Ginny. "I can look after myself."

"Don't call me an idiot." Harry said with a frown.

"Don't act like one." Ginny replied coldly.

His face fell and softened, looking into her eyes sadly. "Ginny…"

"Don't." Ginny squirmed. "We already said enough was enough. Let's just say goodbye without making things messy."

"I don't feel right just leaving you here, like this, with him-"

"What about him?" Ginny snapped, her moment of sadness forgotten. "Is this about you and me, or you and him?"

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well?" asked Ginny.

"I-"

Whatever Harry was going to say, he was interrupted when Tom opened the door and looked out at them.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but would you mind keeping it down?" he said coolly.

Harry glowered. "Mind your own business Riddle."

"I'm trying to." Tom replied lightly. Ginny could hear a hint of a smile in his voice. "If only you'd lower your voice."

"You rotten-" Harry began, but Ginny stepped between them.

"Stop. Don't start fighting."

"Don't defend him!" Harry bellowed.

"He hasn't done anything wrong and neither have I!" Ginny retorted. "Don't shout at me." She took a step back instinctively, nearly walking into Tom as she did.

Harry lunged to grab her arm when he noticed their close proximity, but his hand was swept away. Tom had leaned forward and pushed it aside. Harry watched him contemptuously. He looked back to Ginny, who clenched her jaw and looked at the ground. He turned and stalked down the hall, disappearing from sight.

Tom stepped aside while Ginny retreated back into the library, then shut the door.

She stood for a moment in the centre of the room, urging herself to calm down and collecting her thoughts. By the time she turned around, Tom had already returned to his seat, engrossed in his book. She watched him.

"Why did you help me?"

He glanced up at her. "He was loud and distracting."

"You didn't have to stop him grabbing me just to get him to shut up." Ginny pointed out, sinking back into her armchair.

Tom shrugged. "I get as good as I give."

"And what is it you want in return?" Ginny continued.

"Potter stays away, as you have told him to." Tom said without looking at her. "I imagine he will continue to stay away as long as you continue to say as much."

"Harry is leaving tomorrow." Ginny pointed out.

"Really?" Tom said in thin surprise. "Even better."

Ginny continued to watch him but he didn't look away from his book. Tom didn't miss a trick: Ginny knew he must have known Harry was leaving already. So why had he bothered to help her?

"Maybe you just enjoy the pleasure of my company." Ginny said airily, slipping her feet back out of her shoes.

She saw him smirk. "Always a possibility."

She sat in the silence quite comfortably for the remainder of the evening.

* * *

It had grown dark outside by the time Ginny left the library. When the candles in the room burst into light, she stood, fixed her shoes and paused to compose herself. Tom didn't look at her, but she closed the door softly as she left all the same.

She walked downstairs with the intention of having dinner with the others.

"Ginny." A voice called. Hermione appeared from around the corner, smiling. "If you're going to the kitchen, there's a meeting on at the moment."

"Why aren't you down with them then?" asked Ginny. Given Harry's circumstances, he, Ron and Hermione had always sat in on meetings regardless of age.

"They're just giving Harry a bit of a pep talk before we go." Hermione replied, strolling back into her room. Ginny followed. "Ron would be up here helping me pack, if he wasn't so against being helpful."

"Left it all to you then?" Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes at her brother's laziness.

"I've already taken care of everything, I'm just checking again before we leave. Honestly, those two. If it was up to them, they'd be completely unprepared." said Hermione.

Ginny smiled. "I'll miss having you around."

"I'm going to miss you too." Hermione said sadly, throwing her arms around Ginny. "I'm going to be stuck in a tent with those boys for weeks. They'll be so untidy. I may end up strangling your brother with his own socks before we find anything. I wish you could come along."

Ginny smiled sadly. "The golden trio are more than enough. I need to stay to help mum anyway."

"Someone else could do chores you know." Hermione added.

Ginny shook her head. "If I save everyone else time, the Order members can keep helping people."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue but conceded after seeing Ginny's face. "It just doesn't seem right."

"It's ok. At least it's safe here." Ginny tried to steer the conversation away from herself. "It's you we need to worry about. Cheer up."

Hermione smiled at her. "I'm being silly, aren't I?"

"Only a little." Ginny chided. She looked around at the empty room. Hermione had always been tidy but now it was barren. They really were leaving. "Not much left to do."

"No." Hermione nodded. "I guess I'm just wasting time. I didn't feel much like a meeting anyway. It's nothing they haven't told us a million times before. Dumbledore is going to talk to Harry privately."

"Dumbledore is here?" Ginny asked.

"He arrived a little while ago." said Hermione. "Though, between you and me, Harry isn't the only reason he's here. How have things been with 'Tom'?"

Ginny sat on the bed and shrugged. "He's quiet. Hasn't done anything except read in days. He's trying to catch up on fifty year's worth of information."

"You've been around him more than anyone else. Are you feeling alright about that?" asked Hermione. "I mean, I understand he doesn't know what happened with the diary, but you still remember."

Ginny sighed. "I'm really alright. It's been a long time."

"I know." Hermione nodded. "And I know you can handle yourself. But you told me about how you felt then, the things you would say and how Tom would act. It could be…distressing."

"A little." Ginny admitted. "Sometimes I expect him to be charming and kind, only to do something completely horrible. When he's polite, part of wonders what he wants. It's like talking to a complete stranger though. He doesn't know me or care."

"Is that ok?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Hermione struggled to find the right words, "Do you want him to pay attention?"

The words hung in the air while Ginny thought. "No. I don't know. I don't think so." She shook her head. "I'm confused."

Hermione sat beside her and Ginny put her head on her shoulder. "I wish I could stay if you're feeling worried or bothered."

"No." said Ginny. She began to feel selfish. "What you're doing is much more important. Don't worry about me. Dumbledore will figure something out with him. He may not even stay."

* * *

A knock on the door of the library. "Enter." Tom called.

The sweeping robes and the tone of the steps was all Tom needed to know who it was. "Professor."

"Good evening Tom." Dumbledore said as he made his way into the room. He stood, rather than sat, admiring the book lined walls.

"You wouldn't have come just to see how I was." Tom said, sitting back into the couch and watching Dumbledore carefully. His eyes brushed over the man's dishevelled hand. "So you must have something to discuss with me."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Make yourself at ease, please."

He sat into the armchair.

"I have been attempting to discover the nature of the locket you tampered with. I believe I have." He paused. "The object you found was indeed an ancient magical artefact, one with immense magical power. It was…incomplete, however. In later years, replica devices with much less power would be created, ones that could be easily controlled by their user. These became known as Time Turners, Tom."

"Time Turners." Tom echoed.

Dumbledore nodded. "They allow a person to travel backwards through in time. Ordinarily, they cannot be used for extended periods of time, only short bursts such as hours or at most, days. It would make their use too unpredictable. Havoc can be caused by those who effect time." He peered over his spectacles at Tom as he said this, but continued. "That brings us to the issue at hand."

"You mean to tell me I cannot use one of these Time Turners to return to my time." said Tom, noting the man's tone.

"Yes, but I fear you could not try regardless. The Ministry of Magic, who are the only known keepers of Time Turners, is currently under the control of your future self. Beyond this, to my knowledge, their collection of Time Turners was destroyed." said Dumbledore.

Tom's face darkened. "What you mean to say is…"

"For the time being, at least, I fear you must remain here in this time." Dumbledore finished.

Tom gave a terrible roar of anger, one that Hermione and Ginny heard a floor below. They watched the ceiling of Hermione's room with wide eyes.

"Calm yourself Tom." Dumbledore told him sternly, as the boy kicked the table hard and sent it and the books lain on it sailing through the room. "Reparo." he muttered, and returned the items to their proper places.

Tom seethed in unrestrained anger. "How can there be nothing? No way? There must be something. Why aren't you telling me everything?" he bellowed.

"Tom." Dumbledore said loudly, eyes hard. "Calm down."

Tom trembled with fury but sat into the couch. He watched Dumbledore with a furious expression, his eyes flashing red for a moment as they tended to when he angered.

"I have told you all there is to know." said Dumbledore. "Truly, there is no way back now."

"Am I to be trapped in this time forever?" Tom grit through a clenched jaw.

"Perhaps not." Dumbledore offered. "But for now, it seems that way. Please try to accept this graciously Tom. You are safe here, if nothing else."

"Safe?" Tom growled. "I don't want to be safe. I want to be back in Hogwarts, living my life, in my time."

"You've seen what becomes of you. Are you so eager to rush to this fate? I know how it displeases you." said Dumbledore.

Tom glared. "What would you have me do?"

"Adjust. Learn from what you've seen and move on." Dumbledore told him.

"And join the Order to fight for peace?" Tom asked with scorn.

"Perhaps, in time."

Tom looked at him with surprise and contempt.

"You are a fool if you believe that would ever happen. Has time dulled your memory? Don't forget who I am." said Tom lowly.

"I have not forgotten." Dumbledore replied. "I remember it all. I remember you sitting in your room at Wool's as a child. I know it all. There can be more to you than this fate Tom. You have been given a second chance. Many would give everything to be so lucky."

"I have given nothing." Tom retorted. "This has taken everything from me, even the world I knew!"

"Then begin again. You are strong Tom. Many would be unable to handle this situation, but I know you can, if only you'd try." said Dumbledore softly.

"I have no choice, do I?"

"There is always a choice Tom." Dumbledore replied.

The boy fell silent for a time. "I still can't understand. How did this happen?" Tom muttered.

"I cannot say for sure." Dumbledore replied. "In time, you became something less than human. To have made so many horcruxes, this was beyond doubt. Perhaps the destruction of you horcruxes affected your soul in ways even you could not have anticipated."

"Dumbledore." Tom said thoughtfully. "Regardless of what has happened, time remembers me. Otherwise my absence from Hogwarts would have changed life as you know it now. I must have remained in school to grow to become that creature. You must have realised this already."

"Yes, I have." Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

"And so I am not completely myself, am I?"

"That would depend on what you mean by complete."

Tom frowned. "I am not the entirety of myself. I am a fragment of a complete person."

"I believe so."

"How?" Tom murmured. "I feel as I always have."

"You, I believe, have more of yourself inside of you than your future form does." said Dumbledore. "As I have said, he is no longer human. You succeeded in creating seven horcruxes in time. Perhaps creating the third was the line in the sand of your humanity. You could not exist as a human with so little of a soul left inside you."

Tom nodded. "The pieces in the ring and the diary. What happened to them?"

"I cannot say. Such dark magic is rarely used, so there is little known about it. Who would dare to examine it for the sake of research?" said Dumbledore. "But, I believe they have returned to you, in a way. Perhaps in the form of magic rather than a soul, but I believe they have found you all the same."

"So what am I?" Tom asked lowly.

"Perhaps what a shadow is to a figure. But I would say it is more likely that you are the figure, while he is the shadow."

Silence fell over the room.

"I am sorry Tom. This is a lot to accept. I must remind myself you are a boy and not a man, despite my memories of you from so long ago." Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "I will say no more, for I know not what else to say."

Tom remained silent as he approached the door, but called before he reached it: "What will happen to me? When Potter destroys the Horcruxes? When he dies?"

"I do not know." Dumbledore answered honestly. "The release of your soul may result in you becoming the dominant half, but I ultimately do not know what will happen when he is destroyed."

Tom nodded.

Dumbledore opened the door to leave.

"I could feel it in him."

The man stood still.

"It is true then?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Yes." Tom nodded. "Potter holds a piece of my soul. I do not know how that could have occurred, but it felt as though I was facing a mirror when I looked at him."

Dumbledore nodded mutely. "I would prefer if that information remained between us for the time being Tom. Harry will be informed when the time is right."

"And when will the time be right?" Tom asked coldly.

"When the end approaches, for all three of you."

"Speaking of the end." Tom added lowly. "Your hand seems to be growing worse Professor. I am unaware of how you happened by it but the curse placed upon that ring is degenerative. You will not be able to contain it forever."

"Yes Tom, I am well aware. I would prefer if that information remained between us also." He heard the man sigh. "The time is nearing. Best not to cause worry unduly."

With that, Dumbledore swept from the room.

Tom sat in the low light of the candle lit room, his eyes boring into the fabric of the armchair.

It was a long time before he left the room that night.


	11. Departure and Memory

Tom had made it a point to avoid looking out the windows. The unfamiliar muggle world outside made him feel more like he didn't belong in this place than anything else. But that morning after breakfast he observed from his window as the three departed under the cover of Harry's cloak. He wouldn't have been able to follow their progress had he not been looking for them. Slight flickers of movement followed their footsteps before they disapparated.

Tom felt a strange twinge as the piece of his soul contained within Harry vanished with them. With that, they had gone.

The memories of the morning flooded back to Tom as he sat on his bed and wondered what to do next.

* * *

**_(That Morning)_**

Ginny was woken early by Molly. "Ginny." she called softly. "It's time."

Her mother left her to get dressed. Ginny hesitated, toying with the hem of her dress and wondering what to say or do. She considered making an effort but shook the idea away and hurried downstairs.

Hermione, Ron and Harry were in the kitchen, along with her mother, Lupin and Sirius. Molly walked around them, making sure they had ate enough while Hermione clarified with Lupin that they had everything they would need.

To the side, Sirius placed his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"You're sure you'll be alright?" Sirius asked.

"Definitely." Harry nodded. "Don't worry; we have it taken care of."

"'Course you do." Sirius smiled, but his eyes were lined with worry.

"Harry, you have everything?" Lupin called.

Sirius squeezed his shoulders and lowered his hands, letting him walk away.

"I'm set." Harry replied.

"Good." Lupin nodded. "Very good."

Ginny sat in her usual chair and watched them. It was still dark out and Tom hadn't come down yet. She had continued to sit next to him in the mornings since that first day, if only to make the point that he wouldn't hurt her.

Strangely, she hoped he would walk through the door soon. He wasn't her friend, but at least he was company; now more than ever, she felt alone.

"Alright Gin?" Her brother called. Ginny smiled and nodded. He leaned against the table across from her.

"We'll be alright. I mean, it'll be dangerous, but that's just how things are now, isn't it?" Ron said, partially to her, partially to himself.

"You'll be fine." Ginny nodded in reassurance. She watched his face grow a little lighter as she said this.

"Yeah." He nodded. "We'll be fine. You take care of yourself, you hear?"

"Don't I always?" said Ginny.

"Well, yeah. But it'll just be you here with that-"

"Ron." she said in a warning tone.

"What?" he replied. "You're going to defend him?"

"I don't see why not." Ginny retorted. "If everyone else can get by, so can you Ronald. Besides, you won't be seeing him. Can't you at least try to leave without starting a fight?"

"Fine." Ron waved his hands. "Fine. I'll stay quiet. But really Ginny. Watch yourself."

No sooner had he said this, but the door opened and Tom walked in.

Ginny had noticed before how well he suited this house. His dark clothing that reminded her of Slytherin students, how he always seemed to be dressed in semi-formal outfits. Something about his walk, the way he held himself. As he entered the kitchen, dressed in a black suit and shirt, he looked more like the owner of the house rather than a guest.

Ron narrowed his eyes at him and stalked away.

Ginny, meanwhile, greeted him as she had every morning. "Good morning."

"If that's what you wish." he replied.

He made his way to the counter where Molly had left food prepared and helped himself. Ginny followed suit. As they both sank into their respective chairs, Ginny noticed how little he still ate. She didn't feel like eating much herself though.

She grazed at her food, urging herself not to look at Harry.

The sight of the boy filled her with sadness and remorse. She wished things could have been different, that they hadn't ended on such unfriendly terms. But there was nothing she could say or do at the moment that wouldn't result in harsh words or painful feelings.

"Ginevra."

The word broke her trance.

She had been gripping the table between her seat and Tom's with painful force; her hand had turned white and it was shaking. Tom had said her name as calmly as he would any other word and hadn't stopped to look at her, but she was grateful. He had saved her from making a scene. Noting that he probably just wanted her to stop shaking the table, she lowered her hand and resumed eating.

"Got the cloak?" Ron said to Harry.

"Right here." Harry replied, waving the material at him.

Tom had only glanced in their direction, but he paused. He had seen how Potter's hand seemed to vanish as he held out the fabric. Interesting. An invisibility cloak.

Tom stood when he had finished, but before he could take his plate, Ginny stood.

"I'll take that for you if you'd like."

He looked at her for a moment and nodded. By the time she had stacked his dishes with her own, he had gone.

She left them by the sink and spent a while skirting the scene. She would laugh when it was appropriate and keep out of their way.

The time came for them to go.

"Goodbye Ginny." Hermione said sadly, hugging her tightly. "Take care, alright?"

"See you Gin." said Ron, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "Keep an eye on that tosser for me." She rolled her eyes but hugged him anyway.

That only left Harry. For a moment, it looked as though he was only intending to hesitantly shake her hand, but he caught her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry about yesterday." As his familiar smell invaded her senses, Ginny forced herself not to blink out tears. He pulled away and looked at her sadly. "Bye Ginny. We'll see you soon." He squeezed her hand. "Be happy."

They collected their things, said the last of their goodbyes and at last crept from Molly's tearful watch and out the door under the cover of the invisibility cloak. A sharp crack and they were gone.

Ginny stepped away from the front door as the noise reached her ears and made her way upstairs.

Her feet led her to the library. She sank into the armchair and didn't try to stem the tears that fell.

Why did things have to be complicated? She had gone for years caring about Harry, only to accept he didn't feel the same. As if only to hurt her, he finally accepted her feelings and told her weeks later that they would have to part.

She remembered Tom telling her life wasn't fair. She wished he was wrong, but he wasn't.

Noting the boy's absence, she settled in the comfortable seat and made no effort to compose herself. At some point, the exhaustion must have caught up to her. Still tired and feeling drained, she cried herself softly to sleep.

* * *

Tom left his room after a time. He felt uneasy. Dumbledore had no idea when, if ever, Tom could be effected by the horcruxes. As it stood, he could die at any point, or simply vanish, leaving only his future self. Death was something Tom had never felt acceptance for.

Knowing it now loomed over him like a ghost was sickening.

He made his way to the library, deep in thought.

The books the werewolf had brought he had been useful. He was able to update himself with every recent important discovery and change to the wizarding world beyond 1944. Tom was currently reading from 1970 onwards. He intended to banish thoughts of Potter and the horcruxes in place of this information for the day. Upon opening the door to the library, he stopped.

Ginevra was asleep in the armchair.

Tom frowned. Did she fear him so little as to truly be at ease to sleep around him? She was foolish. Here she had left herself vulnerable, wand ready to take. No one would think she had been so foolish. No one was likely to look for her any time soon.

She was at his mercy.

He shut the door carefully.

Tom took slow steps approaching the armchair. He stopped for a minute to look at the girl. Pale, blanketed by her long red hair, with red blotched eyes. She had been crying. 'How pitiful', Tom noted, 'Over the Potter boy, no doubt.' Her quiet breathing was the only sound in the room.

Tom considered what to do.

He longed for a wand. He no longer cared if he could return to his time immediately; he had resolved to discover a way for himself if Dumbledore would not. But first, he needed magic. If he intended to accomplish anything more than parlour tricks, he would need a wand.

Tom couldn't see her wand. He imagined taking it, the power he would have again.

The consequences of his actions roamed through his mind. Where would he go? If he were to kill them all, abandon the house? Dumbledore would hunt for him, as would the Order. And if, by any chance, he avoided them, he would be left to the mercy of his future self without their protection hiding him.

Tom hissed a curse. The old man had him trapped and he knew it.

The noise had caused Ginny to stir, drawing his attention back to her. Strange, how she could be so volatile when awake and so weak while she slept.

Tom turned, returned to his usual seat and watched her for a moment.

He resumed reading, disregarding the girl's presence.

* * *

Ginny woke after an hour or so. She felt calmer now, her head adjusting to waking and her eyes to the light of the room. She realised she was still in the library. It dawned on her what she had done.

Her head spun to face Tom.

He was reclining in his usual chair, an open book levitating before him, above his open hand. The magic was done to placate himself, if nothing else. As she looked to him, he glanced passed the pages and his eyes met hers.

"Good morning." He echoed her daily greeting with a smirk.

Her hands jumped to her sleeve, where she had taken to keeping her wand. You couldn't live in a house filled with Order members and Aurors without taking note of some defensive actions. It was still there.

His eyes followed her movement. She stood, shook off the tired feeling and turned back to Tom.

"I…" she began. "Sorry."

"For?" Tom asked coolly, returning to his book.

"Falling asleep in here." Ginny replied.

"I don't care. It isn't my house." Tom answered. "You're at liberty to sleep where you like. Besides, I think I prefer you when you sleep. You don't argue."

Ginny, against her better judgement, laughed softly. She knew he really meant it.

Tom glanced back at her with a flicker of annoyance. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing." Ginny smiled. "Thank you for letting me sleep."

He waved a hand in disinterest.

Ginny was still smiling as she walked away.

* * *

Ginny passed the day dusting rooms. She marvelled at their ability to become a complete mess so quickly. The Aurors who worked with the Order had the tendency to appear suddenly, leaving destruction in their wake. Ginny didn't mind helping, but it was tiresome. Still, her nap in the library had helped, especially with the early rising that morning.

As she worked, she thought about Tom rather than Harry. She hadn't noticed then, but Harry had been pushed from her mind entirely.

She replayed the scene in the library over in her memories. Part of Ginny urged herself to remember who she was dealing with, but she couldn't ignore the flood of memories accompanying Tom and the diary. He had never been cruel in his speech, only his intentions.

So what did he want now? She tried to shake the thoughts away but she couldn't.

* * *

_1992, on the train the Hogwarts. Ginny sat alone, her diary in her hands. _

_She had made it on the train just in time, settled into an empty compartment and waved goodbye to her parents amidst the crowd at the station. That was it. She was finally going to Hogwarts._

_She felt very small in that compartment by herself. The rattle of the wheels below and the metal bars of the luggage slots. _

_She curled up on the seat, produced a self-inking quill that Percy had given her (it was old, but he assured her it would last for the train journey) and began to write to her newest friend. Tom._

_'Are you there?' It was a silly question, but Ginny didn't know what else to say._

_'I am'. The words blossomed on the page in neat inky tendrils. 'How are you Ginny?'_

_'I'm alright,' she wrote, 'I'm on the train to Hogwarts.'_

_'It must be exciting to be going for the first time. I remember I was excited on my way in first year.'_

_'It is.' Ginny replied. 'But I'm nervous. I don't know if I'll be as good at magic as Bill or Percy. I'm not cool like my brother Charlie or funny like Fred and George. And Ron has lots of friends. I don't know anyone.'_

_'There's no need to worry. I'm sure you have your own talents. I imagine you'll be a great witch. As for friends, I suppose you'll just have to talk to other students.'_

_Ginny smiled at the kind words in front of her. 'I guess so. I'm happy to have you Tom. It's so nice to be able to talk like this. I feel like I have a friend already.'_

_'I'm happy to hear that. I'll be here whenever you need me.'_

* * *

Beyond that, the memories from that day grew fuzzy.

She remembered her sorting, how scared she felt.

She remembered her first night in the dormitory and how much she missed the Burrow.

She had wrote in the diary for a long time that night until Tom finally bade her goodnight, saying she should rest for her lessons the night mornings. And he was right. But of course, back then, Tom had never been wrong.

Ginny walked about the house in a trance as she reflected on that time. The halls were empty. Usually Ron and Hermione would be walking about, or she would turn a corner and find herself face to face with –

Harry. She had nearly forgotten. She didn't feel sad anymore though. Thinking of school reminded her of the fact that she wasn't that child anymore. She would have to be strong. Goodbyes, especially temporary ones, could no longer weigh so heavily on her mind.

A head of dark hair caught her eye in the hall. Thinking of Harry, she approached the stairs and found herself looking at Tom Riddle.

Taller. Dark eyes. Strangely composed. Not the same at all.

"Oh." she said, wondering what drew him away from the library. "Is everything alright?"

He threw her a look of condescension. "Wonderful."

Ginny sighed. "I mean apart from the obvious."

"I was intending to eat dinner tonight."

Ginny hid her surprise. "Alright then. I was on my way to the kitchen too."

He gestured for her to go passed lazily.

She kept herself together as she did so, but with her back to him as he followed her, she struggled to stifle a laugh.


	12. Mannerisms

After that, the days seemed to drag by. The inclusion of Tom at dinner meant Ginny never felt as alone as she had expected to – they didn't speak, but at least she had someone of her age nearby.

Without Harry, Ron and Hermione, she was left to do all of the chores.

Molly was rigid – the house should be kept spotless. Ginny imagined her time shut indoors was beginning to get to her, but she never said as much. Tensions were always high and her mother was stressed. Percy was gone. Bill was out with the Order, fighting and getting into danger. Ron and the others were out alone, going against the most dangerous Dark wizard of their time.

Ginny knew what her mother was feeling, so she never mentioned how tired she was, how she hadn't been sleeping well and the constant cleaning was beginning to wear her down.

Every now and again she was pause for a break and look out the windows, imagining how it would feel to run outside and walk about in the fresh air.

The only person who noticed the change in her was Tom.

A few days after the incident in the library, Ginny joined him in her usual seat.

She made no attempt to speak to him. Tom didn't miss her chatter, but the difference caught his attention and he found himself scrutinising the girl. She looked weary.

He continued reading, allowing her to dose in and out of consciousness in the chair. It irritated him greatly that she didn't fear him, but he remained silent as ever, absorbing the new information and storing it away.

* * *

Dinner that night was the first noticeable event in days.

To begin with, there were a lot of people that night. At one end of the long table sat her father and mother, along with Bill, who Ginny was happy to see well. She considered joining them, but when Tom arrived to take his usual seat, she returned to her place next to him.

Sirius joined them for the first time since Harry had left, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the family, trying to seem happy. Ginny recognised the strain in his face; she wondered just how the man had managed to keep it together for so long.

Lupin arrived before the meal was served, along with Tonks. Ginny hadn't seen her since the night Tom arrived. She greeted her ecstatically.

"Ginny!" she cried, throwing her arms out. Ginny went to meet her and hugged her tightly. "It's so good to see you little Weasley." said Tonks, sticking her tongue out. Tom, from his place at the table, regarded the woman curiously. Unusual clothing and hair was nothing new to him after his time as part of the wizarding world, though the woman's vivid pink hair and lizard green denim jacket momentarily caught him off guard.

When they sat down to eat, Ginny happily chatted to the woman who took the seat across from her. She had missed her.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"Pretty good." Tonks nodded, "Been busy of course, but nothing terrible has happened." She pulled a face. "How about you?"

"I've been alright." Ginny shrugged. "Just cleaning."

"This old place, without magic?" Tonks grimaced. "That has to be a pain."

She noticed the younger girl's unhappy expression and whistled to draw her gaze back to her. Tom looked too, at first in annoyance, only to see Tonks's face morph; her hair turned grey and twisted into a tight bun, her face tightened and visibly aged. With sharp narrow eyes and a long thin nose, she said to Ginny in a shrill tone: "Keep pulling that face and it'll stick that way."

While Tom watched her curiously, Ginny laughed loudly.

Lupin audibly sighed and turned to the woman. "Shouldn't you be playing with your food and not your face?"

Tonks shook the guise away and frowned at Lupin. "Stick in the mud."

She turned back to Ginny, who was struggling not to laugh and smiled.

Her eyes flickered to Tom, who seemed to be thinking deeply.

"Alright there?" Tonks asked, leaning her face on her hand. Ginny couldn't help but admire her fearlessness; Tom himself merely looked at her, unsure of what to say.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus," she told him. "Comes in handy, wouldn't you think?"

"I've never seen one." Tom replied coolly. "I've read they are extremely rare."

"They are." Tonks nodded. "You can't learn it; it's a trait you're born with. Pretty useful though."

Ginny couldn't help but admire how relaxed Tonks was; meanwhile, Lupin seemed have tuned into the conversation, as did Sirius.

Tom nodded. "You're fortunate. As a defence, being able to evade being seen in plain sight would be extremely useful."

"It is." Tonks smiled at him. Her face twisted into an exact replica of his. "It gets a little tricky sometimes though. Have to be careful who you decide to look like." Her face returned to normal and she resumed eating.

Ginny didn't miss the look of hunger that flashed over Tom's face. A rare and useful power like that; no wonder he wanted it.

She had grown accustomed to filling in what Tom didn't say in her mind. His often open-ended and polite sentences usually left room for more honesty; Ginny imagined what Tom was really thinking was that Tonks didn't deserve to have such a great power and use it for entertaining people.

"On that note, I have a letter for you Tom."

Attention went to Lupin, who produced an envelope from his coat pocket. "It's from Dumbledore."

Tom nodded mutely and took the letter, noted the script of the address and tucked it into his suit jacket. "Thank you."

The words were quiet, but Lupin nodded to him and turned away.

Ginny looked to him questioningly. Tom showed no sign of having seen this and finished the rest of his meal in silence.

She followed him into the hall when he finished. "What was that about?"

"Try to articulate, Ginevra. What are you referring to?"

"You said thank you." Ginny frowned.

Tom waved a hand. "Isn't that what you say when someone preforms a service for you?"

Ginny placed her hands on her hips. Tom couldn't help but notice how like her mother she looked.

"We've spent days doing things for you and all we've got is a nodding. Why did you decide to be so verbal now?"

Tom turned and began to walk upstairs. "Who knows?"

Ginny stood for a moment and considered following him. She gave a huff and returned to the kitchen instead.

* * *

Tom opened the letter in the library. He glanced over the careful scrawl and scowled.

Damn the old man.

It read:

_Tom, _

_It occurred to me yesterday after our discussion that there are many things relative to both you and Lord Voldemort that you are not aware of, things which occurred after your time in Hogwarts. If by chance you wished to learn of these events, I would tell you that you need only ask. I would accept if you wished to browse my memories or the memories of others which I have collected. _

_On another point, I wished to discuss a few things with you at a later date, pertaining to your parents. I understand how you may wish to disregard your origins Tom, but they are yours and now more than ever, I believe you need to learn to acknowledge them. _

_Beyond this, I ask that you continue to keep information regarding Harry and yourself from the Order for the time being. I hope you are adapting to life in this time and you are approaching both the experiences and people with an open mind. _

_If you wish to take me up on my offer, please enclose a note stating as much and return this letter to Remus Lupin. I bid you farewell for the time being. _

_Try to make the best of it._

He read and re-read the letter a number of times, leaving on the table at last and giving a short, cold laugh.

He didn't want to 'make the best of it'. And how dare the old man collect information about his past like tabloid clippings. He already knew what he thought of his parents, he had no wish to discuss his feelings like a dizzy school girl.

He took a breath.

The old man didn't have long left. His decayed hand showed how far the curse had progressed. Soon it would spread despite his actions to contain it and he would die. This would likely be his last chance to pry through what he knew before his death. However much Tom hated to admit it, the old man wasn't an idiot. He knew more than he should.

With a great deal of annoyance, he took a quill from the drawer of the desk in the corner and scribbled his reply in the corner of the parchment.

_As you wish, but do not expect me to be agreeable. I'm sure you'll know where to find me._

* * *

Ginny was sad to see Bill, Lupin and Tonks leave that night. She had enjoyed the lightness of their company, which seemed to make the house seem less dreary for a while. She stood by the door with her mother and father.

"Thanks Molly." Tonks smiled, leaning in to hug the woman. Molly wrapped her arms tightly around her. "Anytime dear, it was a pleasure to see you both."

She turned to Bill. "Take care of yourself dear." Her face grew red and Bill hugged his mother before she could start crying. "It's alright mum," Ginny heard him mutter, "Really." As Bill gave his father a hug goodbye, a voice sounded from the top of the stairs.

"Lupin."

They turned to see Tom descend the steps towards them, looking and sounding like a formal ghost.

"I would be obliged if you would return this to Dumbledore."

He handed the letter to Lupin, who nodded in return.

Tom stood back as they left, only turning to leave when the door swung shut behind them.

Ginny took this opportunity to interrogate him.

"You've been very polite this evening." she noted aloud with feigning disinterest. "Feeling sociable all of a sudden?"

Tom gave an indignant huff. "Don't fool yourself. It helps to charm the people you want things from."

"Is that why you're so pleasant to me?" Ginny called after him, stopping in the doorway of her bedroom.

"No," he called in return as he disappeared down the hall, "I just enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Ginny cursed internally.

He may have won that round, but she'd find out what was going on.


	13. NOTICE - I AM SO SORRY

Wow. Well. I have some explaining to do.

Cue drama.

Firstly, I AM SO VERY SORRY for leaving people waiting on this story for so long!

If you'd like so backstory, it goes like this.

I was dealing with all sorts of craziness in my life while writing this and then recently it all kind of exploded.

I lost the email account connected to this account and I couldn't access my story.

On top of all of that, the original files on my laptop were erased.

It can't get any better.

Well, I'm here. I'm going to see what I can do about finishing this story, because this was a fun one to write.

As I mentioned in the comments sections, I made a new account when I thought this one was locked to me.

So watch this space, I may move the story over to that account; the name is: Carpel Leaf.

So thank you to all the people who liked this story and I'm sorry my chaotic life left you all hanging.


End file.
